International Mpreg
by Konata101
Summary: The IMA - The Improved Moon Agency - is an organization that seeks to unite the world as one. What happens when a 13 year old weeaboo with a fetish for landmasses just so happens to be in charge of colonizing and populating the moon? MALE PREGNANCY, THAT'S WHAT. Contains OC's, mpreg, no-no words, sci-fi, romance, adventure, the whole nine yards. Check it out maybe yeah?
1. Chapter 1

**Ooh, boy. Where do I begin with this one...**

**Okay. Back when I first joined the Hetalia fandom back in 2010-ish or so, one of my first fanfics was this. _International Mpreg_. If you haven't read the comic strip of the same name over on my dA, or read the "first edition" of this fanfic, basically the plot's about a handful of nations getting... well, pregnant. **

**Problem is, I started _International Mpreg_ with all these hopes of creating a wonderfully wacky mpreg fic for the Hetalia fandom to enjoy, but I was terrible at updating, so the storyline never really went anywhere. I know, I know- I'm still struggling with that- But I'm trying to get better, okay, moving on. ._. I like to think I've improved at writing since I was 13, so... might as well give this story another go, right? **

**If you're familiar with my older "edition" of International Mpreg, you'll probably see quite a few plotline changes from what you remember. And if this is your first time with this fic, well, I hope you enjoy it anyways. :'D **

**One last thing, International Mpreg heavily features three of my original characters (CUE AUDIENCE GROANING AND/OR BOOING) as you'll see in the first couple of chapters, just to get the ball rolling. But no worries. Soon enough, the actual cast of Hetalia's gonna take center stage. **

**That's about it, I suppose! Hope you like it. ouo**

**xXx**

* * *

Draw a circle, here's the Earth~

Draw a circle, there's the Earth~

Draw a circle, it's the Earth. . .

_Bzzt—_

**[ THE YEAR: 2050 ANNO DOMINI.**

**HUMANKIND CONTINUES TO STRIVE TOWARDS MAXIMUM POTENTIAL. THEY ARE EXPANDING THE BORDERS OF THE WORLD THEY CONSIDER "HOME".**

**A REVOLUTION IS PRESENTLY UNDERWAY. ITS NAME: LUNAR COLONIZATION. ]**

* * *

"But ojiichaaaan! Onegaaaai!"

Within a dimly-lit storage room, three people were seated around a coffee table, holding a conference of sorts between themselves. Well… not _exactly_ a conference. For starters, there was a grand total of three people involved – and it wasn't like any of them were contributing to a particularly productive "meeting", if you could even call it that!

The youngest of the group, a little girl with clumpy, koolaid-blue hair in pigtails, was clearly dominating the conversation with her whining and pleading to have the Moon all for herself.

"I-It's not faaair! 'Cuz if it wasn't for me, those NASA-bakas woulda never even figured out how to colonize the Moon in the first place!" Or something along those lines. Long story.

"S-Susan, sweetheart…" Another member of the group, a chubby, elderly man even shorter than Susan's height, raised his hands in an effort to defend himself from her tantrum. "Of course, I agree! I think you'd be a wonderful leader! Aah, but we want to avoid any and all international conflicts over this, right? The Moon colonies are supposed to be free from hatred and wars, so we must handle this carefully…"

"BUT THAT'S A STUPID WAY OF DOING IT!" Susan screeched, standing up and kicking over the coffee table, as if she thought that would support her stance on the issue. "Just elect me as leader of the Moon and nothing bad will happen! Ugh, seriously. How bad can I be, desu~?"

[ SIR WINTERS. ] Interrupting their "conversation" was 350 – a feminine android, with navy-blue Rapunzel-length locks, and bright green goggles completely obscuring the area where her eyes would be. [ I SUGGEST THAT WE ADJORN THE IMA CONFERENCE ? ]

"Well…" Twiddling his thumbs, the older man – Sir Winters – glanced away from Susan, a humiliated look upon his rather cherubic face. "I-I suppose so. We could always try again later! But, it has to be soon. Because, a-aah, the space agencies have been asking for another report from us…"

[ PERHAPS WE SHOULD: INVITE THE NATIONAL PERSONIFICATIONS FOR A CONFERENCE ? ] 350 replied. With that pervading sense of flatness in her voice, one would think she didn't even care about their assigned deadline. However, that was simply how her voice box was programmed.

Sir Winters blinked, considering her suggestion. "That could work! Of course- It'd have to be held somewhere else, right? Other than our location, here. I doubt anyone would want to visit us… except for Russia, I suppose! Or Finland! Hohoho! Ho… Ahh, there's also the fact our base is supposed to be a secret from everyone-!"

* * *

_Bzzt—_

**[ WE. . . ARE THE IMA. WE ARE THE ****_IMPROVED MOON AGENCY._**

**OUR GOAL: TO ENSURE THE SUCCESSFUL WORLDWIDE COLLABORATIVE COLONIZATION OF THE MOON.**

**THE IMA BASE IS LOCATED IN THE FROZEN, BARREN "WASTELAND" KNOWN AS ANTARCTICA. A SECLUDED LOCATION FOR US TO CONDUCT OUR ROUTINE RESEARCH EFFORTS.**

**UNTIL WE ARE SUMMONED, FOR ADDITIONAL PURPOSES, AS NECESSARY. SUCH AS LUNAR COLONIZATION.**

**THE IMA HAS THREE (3) MEMBERS:**

**SUSAN MARIE**. **HUMAN. AGE: 13 YEARS OLD. NATIONALITY: CANADIAN.**

**SHE HAS EXTRAORDINARY RESOURCEFULNESS AND IS A SKILLED INVENTOR, TOO.**

**IF NOT FOR HER DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR, AS WELL AS HER TENDENCY FOR EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS, I BELIEVE SHE WOULD BE A REMARKABLY INFLUENTIAL LEADER.**

**SIR WINTERS. NATIONAL PERSONIFCATION: THE NORTH POLE AND SURROUNDING ARCTIC REGIONS. AGE: UNKNOWN.**

**SUSAN'S DE-FACTO GUARDIAN. HAS A VERY GENTLE, DIPLOMATIC MANNER. DESPITE THE FACT HE REPRESENTS A MASS OF ICE, HIS PERSONALITY CAN BE CONSIDERED "WARM", AS IN, "FRIENDLY". UNFORTUNATELY, HE IS QUITE THE PUSHOVER. THIS PERHAPS STEMS FROM HIS OWN INSECURITIES, AS HE IS NOT AN OFFICIALLY-RECOGNIZED NATION. **

**AND YOURS TRULY. 350.**

**THAT IS MY NAME, 350. NOTHING MORE, NOTHING LESS. I AM AN ANDROID, MODEL 22.0.V3, COPYRIGHT 2049. AS FOR MY PERSONALITY, MY SUCCESSES, MY FLAWS ?**

**I WILL ALLOW FOR OTHERS TO VOICE THEIR OPINIONS ABOUT MYSELF.**

**THAT IS ALL. ]**

* * *

"S-So, um…"

Although their three-person conference had come to a premature – and unsuccessful – end, Sir Winters and 350 continued to discuss their impending progress report on Moon Improvement.

But even though Susan was out of the loop and not distracting either of them, the discussion mostly consisted of Sir Winters nervously stuttering and "uhh"-ing, while 350 stared at him with her usual unforgiving green-tinted gaze. "Well, obviously," the elderly ice-mass began, "We don't want one single country to be in charge of all the Moon colonies. That's _exactly_ what we want to avoid!"

He scratched at his mustache, thinking this over some more. "Ideally, we should ask every nation for their input on what to do now." That's how the Lunar Colonization project got off the ground in the first place. All research progress was halted, until every single nation on Earth voted "yes" for Lunar Colonization efforts.

But now, the IMA – and NASA, and the ESA, and the CSA, and all others of that ilk – were at a particularly challenging standstill.

[ WE, THE IMA, MUST ENLIST A BOARD OF NATIONS TO LEAD OUR CAUSE. LUNAR COLONIZATION. ] 350 interjected. [ AND THIS GROUP, MUST CONSIST OF A MANAGEABLE NUMBER OF COUNTRIES. I UNDERSTAND, TO THE EXTENT OF MY ABILITY, THAT IT IS PREFERABLE, THAT WE INVOLVE THE ENTIRE WORLD. BREAK THE BORDERS THAT SEPARATE THE EARTH. FOR THAT, IS THE IDEAL, WHICH THE MOON COLONIES SHALL REPRESENT. ]

Sir Winters nodded. For a robot, 350 could say some rather deep things.

Gosh, he wished he could be as cool as her… "R-Right," he blubbered. "I suppose we need to select a handful of nations, for now. Otherwise- it'd be crazy! Hohoho… Uhm, well, obviously, the United States would have to be on board with us, and possibly some European representatives-"

[ YES. YES. YOUR SUGGESTIONS ARE ON TRACK. ] 350 drummed her fingers against the couch's arm, a quiet _whirring_ noise emitting from them as she did so. Strangely enough, she was programmed with quirks and ticks like that – but it wasn't as if they served to make her more lifelike, considering her impossible hair color and lack of visible eyes. Nor did she have any facial expressions or voice inflections, for that matter.

[ WE NEED TO DECIDE. A DIPLOMATIC WAY OF SETTLING THIS ISSUE. NO DISPUTES, GREAT OR SMALL, SHOULD ERUPT AT THE HANDS OF THE IMPROVED MOON AGENCY. HOWEVER. MERE CONFERENCES, I DO NOT BELIEVE, IS THE BEST WAY OF DETERMINING WHO WILL HELP US CONTINUE LUNAR COLONIZATION RESEARCH. ]

"Mhmm, you're right." Sir Winters let out a sigh, clearly wracking his brain trying to come up with an answer. "We don't want disputes, but if you don't think conferences will work, then…" His pine-green eyes twinkled. "OH! OHOHOHO! BY JOVE, I THINK I'VE GOT IT!"

He leaped off the couch, slamming his fist into the table in a merry fit of jolliness and goodwill towards men. "Maybe-! Okay, maybe, whichever nation proves they love their children the most, will get to help us colonize the Moon first!" He grinned at 350. It was impossible to tell, but he might've startled the android. "What do you think?!"

[ I AM NOT UNDERSTANDING. ]

Sir Winters slumped his shoulders, and reached a hand up to awkwardly fix his monocle. "Hoho… Y-You might be right. I'm sorry. I must've gotten a little carried away there. But really! What could be better than a contest among the nations, all about how much they love their children?!"

"Ooh! I know, ojiichan!"

Turns out Susan hadn't been _completely_ distracted, but neither 350 nor Sir Winters knew how long she'd been eavesdropping. "Here, I gots a much better way of handling it~ I'LL PICK OUT THE CUTEST NATIONS AND HAVE THEM HELP US! KYAAAA~!"

The poor older man clutched his ears as Susan shrieked at them, but 350 had no need to. Internal volume regulation. "I-I don't know if that's the best way to go about it, honey!"

The IMA members often attended conferences, and associated with, the personifications of the world's nations. This was because Sir Winters – the North Pole – wasn't exactly a nation himself, but a personification, nonetheless. Like Sealand! But, North Pole was treated with _slightly_ more dignity, than the humble little naval fort. Key word being _slightly._

The IMA's relationship with the world's governments _also_ meant that the nations had to deal with a 13 year old weeaboo on a semi-regular basis…

"Urusai!" Susan snapped, lurching forward at poor, poor Sir Winters. "It's way easier than your stupid idea! Hyaaah, we should definitely pick Japan to help us~!" Susan and Kiku's relationship was a complicated one, to put it nicely. She was _obsessed _with him – and especially his media. He, however, politely tolerated her at best.

Of course, that didn't stop Susan from acting like she was the heroine of some shojo harem manga starring her and the rest of the nations, and he was her "aloof-yet-warmhearted~" designated boyfriend who'd soon come around.

"Ooh, wait, Italy's pretty cute, too… He should be on our team!" She was bouncing around the claustrophobia-inducing room, listing off nations she thought should be on the IMA's Board of Lunar Colonization because they were "bishie".

But, to be honest, that wasn't too dissimilar from… say, male restaurant managers or doctors, deciding which women to pick for their staff. Just genderflipped.

[ SIR WINTERS. ] 350 turned her neck to 'face' the elderly man. [ THIS IS MY HUMBLE OPINION. IMHO. BUT I WOULD LIKE TO SAY, I PREFER YOUR SUGGESTION, THAT WE DECIDE WHICH NATIONS WILL HELP US WITH INITIAL COLONIZATION, BASED ON THEIR CITIZENS' LOVE FOR THEIR CHILDREN— ]

"R-Really?!" He nearly fell off the couch – of course, Susan was pulling on his hair too, so there was that. "But now that I think of it, it is rather… difficult, to implement, don't you think? I-It's kind of silly, too. I don't know…"

Susan stopped dead in her tracks.

Nations.

Children.

Nations. Children.

_Nations __**and **__children—_

**_What if Kiku was pregnant with quintuplets—!?_**

"I'VE GOT IT!" she squealed, standing up on that poor, abused coffee table. It was a wonder it was even still intact, considering everyone (well, mostly Susan, and Sir Winters on rare occasions) liked to punch it and kick it and _stand_ on it.

350 let out a sighing noise. It sounded like a clogged laptop fan. [ SUSAN, IF THIS HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOUR OPINIONS ON THE NATION PERSONIFICATIONS' PHYSICAL ATTRACTIVENESS… ]

The 13 year old paused for a minute – as if caught with her pants down – but quickly shook her head. "Nope! It's even better!" And with that, she dashed off into another room of their base, without even bothering to explain further.

Sir Winters' skin looked even more pale than usual. "S-Should I… go after her?" he whimpered, curled up on the couch and shivering.

It took 350 a good few seconds to finally respond to that. [ . . . I DO NOT THINK SO. ]

"A… Alright… Uhm, do you think it's a bad thing I'm terrified of her, sometimes?"

[ THAT IS CLASSIFIED INFORMATION. ]

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Chapter 2

_To whomsoever it may concern,_

_I implore you, to please respond to this message as soon as you possibly can. We, the Improved Moon Agency (IMA), are intending to host a conference in Kai'Ko Island, on April 3rd, at our very own IMA Research Base._

_You, dear sir, among seven others, have been personally selected to aid us in our goal towards Lunar Colonization! _

_This will be a private conference between the IMA and you, as a representative. Nation to nation, to henceforth put it in other words. We ask that you do not bring your government officials, leaders, politicians, et cetera et cetera, along with you. As a matter of fact, consider this a vacation of sorts! Ha ha ha_

_Thanks! ^_^ _

_-The IMA_

* * *

Legit-sounding emails, check.

Susan was drooling with excitement. Everything was going according to plan... Well, in her mind, anyways. She wasn't even concerned about stupid things like "what if my message didn't go through or gets ignored", or "what if they get suspicious because nobody uses ^_^ in an official correspondence like, ever". Pshaw.

She took out her notebook. It had a black cover, appearing completely featureless, save for some suspicious-looking white lettering. It looked kind of intimidating, for some reason. But it was just like any other notebook, really. Honestly.

_step ichi: send emails to all the kawaiiest nations ^w^ & make sure it sounds like it was writted by ojiichan or 350-baka_

The young girl checked that off. Even though she _just_ sent the emails a few seconds ago, leaving absolutely no time for any RSVP's. But who cared? She had _kuso_ to do. No time to dawdle.

_step ni: create the…. Magical Mpreg Pill ^_^ O A O * w * _

Awww yesss. Time for the fun part.

Well, besides impregnating her harem of kawaiiest nations and then spending all day _rubbing their bellies and squeezing their man boobies and—_

"Huh, that's weird," Susan muttered, setting the notebook on her desk. "I thought I was wearing my pantsus?" Whatever. She slid off the chair, and headed to "her" laboratory.

Now, she hardly ever used that lab. Despite the notebook-paper sign on the door proclaiming it was _Property of Susan Marie-Sama BACK OFF YOU BAKA F*CKER_, it was actually 350 who spent the most time in there – and without disruption, either, surprisingly enough. Usually testing the electronic equipment, downloading new data as necessary, legitimately doing research work and shit…

But today was going to be a_ little _different!

As soon as Susan stepped into "her" lab, she slammed the door shut and got down to business. She dashed around the room, grabbing as many necessary ingredients as possible. Some ice, some pocky, half a gallon of drain cleaner, and a tiny dab of suntan lotion… Still needed some other things to make it perfect.

"Yeah, this will definitely work!" With all the confidence of a shonen protagonist, she snatched a weird soggy balloon from the trash, and added its contents to the concoction.

She didn't have a specific recipe in mind for the Magical Mpreg Pill— _Well._ It wasn't like anyone else came up with one yet, either. But there was always a first for everything, and Susan was more than willing to be the father of such a wonderful invention!

Here, improvisation was key. Sometimes it works, sometimes it fails. Desu.

After adding a few more bits and bites to her recipe, Susan had a rather nice bowl of glop to work with. She didn't bother giving a taste test. Besides, who knows what the side effects could be before it's finished?

Grabbing the bowl, she hopped over to a machine that just so happened to be in the lab. Praise Madoka. It looked like a really,_ really_ fancy, science-y oven. She's never used it before, nor had any clue how it worked.

With a nod, Susan figured it'd be best to simply figure it out as she went along. Wasn't that what all great inventors did? Yeah. Of course. She poured the brownish-green liquid into the oven, pressed a few buttons on its side, and waited.

And waited.

And waited…

_Eventually,_ the oven let out a terrifying-sounding moan, struggling to digest the load it was forced to receive. But on the other hand, it also kind of sounded vaguely erotic, if you turned your head and squint your ears.

Susan bounced on the balls of her feet, eyeing the machine obsessively as it sputtered _something_ out of its vents. With closer observation, it was pink-colored powder, like Pixy Stix. A little clumpier than that, though.

The girl walked over and gathered it into her bare hands – because when you're creating something like a Magical Mpreg Pill, gloves are for pussies. It didn't give her acid burns, so that was a good sign, probably. And if she balled it into a little pink microscopic snowball, it kinda-sorta resembled a pill… a crumbly one, but still.

_It was done. _

"IT'S DONE!" Susan proclaimed to the high heavens, breakdancing in victory, and spilling excess powder all over herself and onto the floor. "IT'S DONE! THE MAGICAL PILL OF MALE PREGNANCY! AND IT'S AAAAALL MINE! YOSH!"

But. A scientist's worth can only be proven through peer review.

[ SUSAN. ]

The door slammed open – Susan forgot to lock it – revealing none other than the lab's usual attendee, 350. [ I KNEW I WOULD FIND YOU HERE. ] The sensors in 350's boots were picking up on strange chemical compounds scattered around the floor… and preserved sperm cells. [ SUSAN. EXPLAIN YOURSELF. ]

Susan's brows furrowed, and despite the fact she was trying to appear confident, she attempted to sweep up the dust on the floor with her foot. "350, I'm doing… doing stuff. Get me some more drain cleaner and stop being a baka gaijin!"

[ YOU KEEP USING THAT WORD. I DO NOT THINK YOU KNOW WHAT IT MEANS. ] All of a sudden, her goggles began to flash – green to blue, and back again, for about a full second. It happened whenever the IMA received an email.

Susan was still pondering over 350's remark. "Drain… cleaner?"

[ NEVER MIND ] 350 snapped, electronically. [ I HAVE RECEIVED COMMUNICATIONS FROM ARTHUR KIKRLAND: UNITED KINGDOM, AND FELICIANO VARGAS: ITALY, THAT THEY ARE ABLE TO ATTEND AN IMA CONFERENCE IN KAI'KO ISLAND ON— NOW, HOLD ON, JUST A MINUTE. ]

The gynoid decided to ignore the strange powder for now. [ I DO NOT RECALL. ]

With a huff, Susan set her _precious_ crumbly pill aside and tried to push 350 out of the lab. "You probably forgot! Now get outta here! I gotta make seven more pills!"

[ NO. SUSAN. I DO NOT HAVE RECORDS OF SENDING SUCH AN EMAIL. YOU KNOW THAT I AM ABLE TO RECORD ALL CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN THE IMA AND OUTSIDE ASSOCIATIONS AND INDIVIDUALS ? MY FIRST SUSPICION WAS THAT WE WERE HACKED. ]

Despite her reputation as the most composed, mature member of the IMA, the robot had to use physical force when necessary. Like, right now, for instance. She grabbed Susan by the collar of her shirt, hoisting the girl off the ground and preventing her from getting away.

[ HOWEVER. I HIGHLY DOUBT A HACKER WOULD USE THE ^_^ FACE. I DO WONDER, WHY DID THAT NOT TIP OFF THE NATIONS WHO RECEIVED YOUR EMAILS ? I THOUGHT THAT WOULD RAISE SUSPICIONS. . . ]

"_My_ emails?!" Susan shrieked, trying to kick at the robot. Unfortunately, she only succeeded in stubbing her toe on 350's metallic abs… "Y-You're assuming_ I_ sent them?! Waaaah~ Y-You're so meaaaan~ Mean mean meanie mean!"

[ YOU ARE THE ONLY MEMBER, OF THE IMA, WHO REGULARLY USES THE ^_^ FACE. ] The ghastly emoji flashed across the robot-woman's goggles as she spoke, like a phantom across a sea of green. [ SIR WINTERS, WHEN HE DOES USE FACES, IT IS MOSTLY :-) OR (-: SUCH AS THAT. AND I, AS YOU KNOW, DO NOT SEE THE NEED TO USE EMOTICONS, ALTHOUGH I DO NOT HOLD ANYTHING AGAINST THOSE WHO MAY CHOOSE TO DO SO. ] She dropped Susan back onto the floor, gently. [ THERE IS ALSO THIS. ]

Looks like it was the end of the line for Susan.

Reaching into her… pocket? 350 grabbed the notebook Susan had been using for her project, she just so happened to find it while looking for Susan in her room.

The lettering on the sinister-looking notebook's cover read_ Mpreg Note_. Totally not suspicious.

[ SO. THIS IS WHAT YOU MEANT, BY YOUR IDEA, FOR LUNAR COLONIZATION. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN— ] The android female was interrupted by yet another stream of responses. [ KIKU HONDA: JAPAN… IVAN BRAGINSKY: RUSSIA… ALFRED F. JONES: THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA… OH NO, NO NO NO . . . THIS IS QUITE BAD. . . ]

"YESH!" Susan collapsed onto the ground, rolling in the pink dust and squeezing herself. Overcome with pure, unconcentrated feels. "JAPAAAAAAN-CHAAAAAN'S COMING~ So, what's the bad news, desu?"

Slowly, 350 raised her palm, steadily, aiming it precisely at her own face, and slammed them together. [ YOU ARE NOT UNDERSTANDING. THAT IS 5 OUT OF 8 NATIONS YOU HAVE SENT THE EMAIL TO, WHO WILL ATTEND THE 'CONFERENCE' YOU PLANNED, WHICH SIR WINTERS AND I WERE UNAWARE OF. INCLUDING IVAN BRAGINSKY. ]

Despite the fact an android was expected to have a neutral position when it came to various issues, she didn't trust the Russian as far as she could throw him. [ WE CANNOT CALL OFF THIS 'CONFERENCE' AT THIS STAGE, BUT. . . I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO SUCH A THING, SUSAN. AND YOU WERE PLANNING TO IMPREGNATE THEM, TOO ? WHAT DO YOU THINK SIR WINTERS WILL THINK OF THIS ? ] Although her words were exactly that of a disgruntled, disappointed mother, the tone in 350's voice was no different than a more feminine version of Microsoft Sam.

Which made it _slightly _difficult for Susan to take her complaints seriously.

"Um, okay? I don't really care?" The younger girl rammed her heel into 350's stomach and_ finally_ kicked her out of the laboratory. "Sayanora, biyatch!"

_SLAM!_

* * *

Two hours later.

"Ojiichaaaan~" Susan was curled up in Sir Winter's lap, tugging on his monocle chain like she a little cat. It was kind of creepy, to be honest. "So! Here's the dealio-chan~ Me and 350-_san_ invited some nations to Kai'Ko Island to talk about the whole moon thing! We, uh, picked out eight, and most of 'em even replied already!"

The older man nodded, slowly. "O-Oh! That does sound like a wonderful idea, instead of holding a meeting here in Antarctica. Ahh, nobody ever wants to come here, you know? We don't even have an actual personification— But I'm very, very glad you two were able to sort it out! N-Now um, if you could please get off…"

"ALSO ALSO ALSO! We're also gonna need to stay in Kai'Ko for nine months!"

"Ohoho, yes, that's feasi— W-WHAT?!"

* * *

Meanwhile, over in a quaint little Shanghai suburb, Yao was checking over his emails. He was using the latest operating system – MindowsPad 17, complete with holographic touchscreen projection.

Spam, ads, white boys asking for nudes, and then… "A meeting with the IMA? Hm. Oh. Oh dear. Aiyah, it was _definitely_ written by that girl who's always groping Kiku…" But, she _was_ the leader of the IMA, after all. (Somehow.) He had to give credit where it's due, not many 13 year olds could brag about being in charge of an entire agency.

He stretched lightly in his seat, before getting to business and typing out a short reply, confirming he'd be able to attend the conference. It certainly was a great honor to be chosen to assist with Lunar Colonization.

After a _very_ narrowly-avoided World War III, the world as a whole seemed to be moving towards an era of true peace. It wasn't perfect yet, but with the advent of Lunar Colonization, it was becoming less of a fantastical concept each and every day…

"I wonder who else was chosen?" the Chinese man mused to himself, just about to click on the CC list, when suddenly—

_BAM._

His train of thought was derailed by a lead pipe to his head. It didn't knock him out, but damn, was he feeling disoriented— And pretty self-conscious too, for not being able to block the attack in time.

"I am! I am! Ooh, China, let's 'work' together and populate the mooon~"

"…fuck off, Russia."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED **


End file.
